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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366520">A Bottle Of Rum Named Chuckles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth'>GothMoth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 1.0 (The 2019 Edition Revamped) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danny Phantom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, Drunkenness, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Loner Danny, Minor Injuries, Underage Drinking, creepy laughter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:42:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fenton parents are out of town so Danny gets his drink on, but he's a laughing drunk and Jazz comes home from university a little too early</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 1.0 (The 2019 Edition Revamped) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Bottle Of Rum Named Chuckles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophilea/gifts">bibliophilea</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Previously: 3,250k</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Danny glides smoothly down the steps, today’s a day with the house to himself. Jazz? Off at college. Mom and dad? Four-day convention. Sam and Tucker? Well, they’re not really friends anymore. So today’s a day to himself, a rare one at that. So as Danny saunters over to the fridge he sticks his hand straight through the floor pulling out a bottle of rum. Spinning the bottle in one hand as he opens up the fridge and grabs some milk. Placing the bottle on the table, Danny turns around and goes to make himself some cereal, but is suddenly struck by an idea. An arguably horrible one, but that’s never stopped him before. Spinning back around, bowl of dry cereal in hand, Danny cracks open the rum and pours it into the bowl. Shrugging, “hey if cheesepuff bacon smoothies are great, this ought to be better”. </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Halfway through his cereal, he’s finding it hard to keep eating through his giggling. Staring barely focused out the window, “it’s just”, chuckle, “god so”, chuckle, “like look at the fuck rocks man”, chuckle. Rum cereal abandoned, Danny wanders the yard pointing at random rocks and wobblingly arranging them in poorly laid out constellations. Laughing and grinning he flops down on the grass surrounded by his rock stars. Ha, <em>rock stars</em>. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p> </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Eventually, the hot sun -fuck you evil ball of fire and unpleasant light rays- forces him inside so he opts to play some games. Not being bothered enough to move them from his room, he plays up there instead. He doesn’t really play Doom anymore, he’s more into single-player stuff now. He does, however, take the bottle of rum with him. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>After a few hours, Danny is solidly fucked up, so much so that he doesn’t hear his sister coming home early. Totally misses the door opening and closing, and the feet walking around that aren’t even attempting to be quiet. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz puts her stuff to the side, not particularly bothered by not being greeted by Danny immediately; he had a busy and full plate after all. She does however, hear some creepy ass giggling ringing throughout the house. “Ancients, did someone stuff one of those broken demon Elmo dolls into the walls or something?”. That is <em>exactly</em> the kind of thing Danny would do after all. Moving around methodically, trying to locate the sound. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz moves to head up the stairs just as Danny bursts out into another fit of laughs and giggles. He managed to get a famous glitch in his game, one where the character's limbs and head fly and stretch out all over the screen. It is pure absurdity and a visual assault on the eyes; he <em>loves</em> it. In his laughter Danny accidentally crushes the rum bottle against his chest -thank you ghostly strength-, splashing the little remaining rum and glass all over himself. “Aw man...”, Danny goes to stand but immediately pitches forwards, slamming face-first into his wall. Laughing even more erratically, ‘cause he can see himself in the door mirror, Danny just slowly slides down to the floor. Laying in a heap of limbs and laughs. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz, meanwhile, is standing awkwardly on the other side of his door, somewhat in shock. At first, she thought there was some weird new ghost after Danny, but after listening close she clues in that it’s actually <em>Danny</em> simply <em>laughing</em>. Muttering quietly and with a slight shake of her head, “the ghost in you sure shows in funny ways”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>With a soft though unnerved smile on her face Jazz goes back downstairs, looking to make herself some toast but promptly notices the milk jug and very disgusting-looking half-eaten cereal. She grumbles at the offending cereal, “what the Hell was that made with?”, well aware of Danny’s strange tastes, as she puts the milk away. “I wonder if his ghost half has anything to do with his tastes?”, she taps her finger on her chin and shudders, as yet more booming static laughter erupts from upstairs. She elects to smell the cereal for clues rather than taste it, ‘cause Zone knows what’s in there. Jerking back she realises that whatever it is, it’s <em>definitely</em> alcoholic. Shaking her head, “where’d you even get that little brother and why”, as she goes up to confront Danny. Whom she’s now certain is laughing so much purely because he’s drunk; and she’s totally right on that part. He’s absolutely too young to be drinking, especially <em>alone</em>. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Meanwhile, Danny has been intentionally flinging himself around his room, trying to land it the most awkward and absurd positions possible. He’s so utterly plastered that he never even notices all the glass from the rum bottle embedded in his chest, making him bleed profusely. Though his high pain tolerance through years of fighting, is likely also to blame; at least a little anyway. Him flinging himself around isn’t helping either. And his future self will not thank him later for the massive amounts of blood smears everywhere. Not to mention all the knocked over things and glass. Eventually, he winds up leaning against the mirror on his door making faces at it and smearing his face around. Resulting in many muffled giggles. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz, standing in front of Danny’s door, can actually smell the alcohol through the door now. Scratching her nose she swings the door open, catching Danny totally unprepared as he staggers backwards; straight out the window. Running over to the window she looks down and sees Danny laughing his ass off on the ground covered in blood and glass. She physically shivers from the combination of Danny’s demonic ass laughter and the visuals. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz bolts all the way down the steps and outside, running up to Danny who’s now standing up and wobbling all over the place. Seeing Jazz he promptly shouts, “is afff uckin’ airy! Whooooo!”, throwing his hands up in the air. Jazz runs over and hooks an arm under his right armpit, “Danny what the Hell, let’s get you inside before anyone sees”. Danny lightly giggles, completely uncaring about any potential prying eyes, “leds meh to dis lits airy”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz practically has to drag Danny into the house as he flips between muttering about fairies, or “ariy” as he’s calling them, and laughing. Effectively, slowly unnerving Jazz more and more; as well as making her unimpressed with his drunken state. Jazz sets him down at the table and points at the half-eaten rum cereal. Asking in a clearly unimpressed tone, “just <em>how much</em> have you had, Danny?”, but she’s too creeped out to really sound threatening. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>The only response she gets from Danny is, “I’s callied it Chuckles”, then he sticks his hands out, spreading them apart vertically to about the high of his rum bottle. Jazz isn’t quite sure what he means for a second but then pinches the bridge of her nose, “Zone Danny, and what was in it exact-”, Jazz gets cut off by the sight of Danny pulling some body horror shit, spreading his mouth inhumanly wide and straight voreing the entire bowl whole. Rum, cereal, spoon, bowl, and all. Jazz having never bore witness to his body horror crap nearly vomits, which causes Danny to go into another fit of laughter. She sickly looks over the counter at him as he laughs himself so hard he falls off the stool. “Okay, now your creepy laugh is also pissing me off. I’m creeped out, disgusted, disturbed, and angry all at once”. Jazz shakes herself off and tries to push away the lingering shivers Danny’s laugh sends across her skin.</p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Danny starts crawling forwards on the floor but Jazz rushes over and sits him up on his knees. Immediately scolding him, “don’t do that”, frowning, “you’ll rip yourself up more and-”, looking down at the floor, “-dear god... make more of a mess”. Turning her head away from Danny, arms still on his shoulders, she mutters after taking a breath, “how the Hell am I going to clean this up?”. Danny chuckles, slurring, “clench ‘n exbird outwash fix erry”. Jazz just stares at him, “okay, I got bleach but the rest is lost on me”. Danny just shouts, “exbird outwash!”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“Danny, what even is that?”, Jazz sighs exasperatedly, as Danny starts making gargling sounds but then chokes on his own spit. Resulting in yet more laughter. “Einstein, lend me your strength”, Jazz groans as she jerks away from the sound of Danny’s laugh. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Eventually, she manages to get Danny sitting upright. Slowly pulling out shards of glass, though Danny is not making that easy. Danny’s rolling his head all over the place, occasionally flailing his arms around, and talking mostly gibberish, interspaced with giggles and laughter. “Danny, I will tail you for a week and throw psychology terms at you, if you ever even consider getting wasted around people who don’t know about this ghost shit”, finishing off her threat with flawless timing as Danny straight up phases through the floor. Jazz, sighing, gets up to walk down to the lab. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Looking around she fails to see him till she hears his wild creepy giggles coming from the ceiling. Looking up she sees Danny dangling with one foot still stuck in the ceiling, “Imma uckin’ chandii!”. Jazz sighs, “yes Danny, you are definitely a very nice chandelier, for sure, hundred percent”. Danny just shouts, “yay!”, as he swings his hands up towards the ceiling, smashing them so hard Jazz hears cracking and Danny, with a chunk of the ceiling, crashes to the ground. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>She stares at Danny and mutters, “you could kill a man without a second thought and I don’t even think you’d notice the impact...”. Just as Danny rights himself, smashing apart the other bits of ceiling; which suddenly brings Danny’s fingers into view. “Oh my god Danny, you freaking broke your fingers”. Deciding she’s had enough, Jazz digs through the lab until she finds what she’s looking for. An Ecto-shield blanket, “mom and dad say it’s for keeping out mosquito ghost but it should make a fine Danny burrito”. Jazz walks up behind Danny and quickly wraps the blanket around him. Danny just squirms, falls to his side and starts flopping about like a fish. Sighing Jazz grabs the Fenton fisher anti-ghost fishing line. Line in hand she picks up Danny and walks up to his bedroom, “you need to eat more Danny, and real food not junk food. My textbooks weigh more than you”. Once in Danny’s room, she ties him to his bed headrest with the ecto-line. Danny naws at it while giggling and making exaggerated chewing and biting sounds. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz attempts to study while she watches her brother and waits for him to sober up. But it’s difficult with all the usual sounds, gibberish, and increasingly disturbing laughter. Muttering into her book, “Zone, it’s like it gets more and more unnerving the more you hear it”, trying her damnest to focus without completely ignoring her inebriated brother. Eventually, she gives up on that endeavour and elects to inspect the glass she managed to get out of Danny’s chest. Since she was fully expecting it to be window glass, she’s shocked to find it's from a bottle. Sticking a few pieces together she realizes it’s from a bottle of rum, high proof rum at that. “Danny what the Hell?! How did you even get this! Mom and dad don’t even <em>like</em> rum!”.</p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>The only response she gets out of Danny is more giggling. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“And how long has this glass even been in your chest!? Did you drink the whole thing!?”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Danny giggles enthusiastically which Jazz takes as a ‘yes’. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“Danny! That would kill a full-grown man!”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>This time she actually gets a response out of the drunken lad, “‘tis tooo lats, ta jib allreds don”. Jazz groans leaning back in her chair, “even wasted enough to kill a normal person you still make death jokes”. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Things continue on like this for a while till Danny eventually starts to slightly sober up. Which takes an impressive, and scary to Jazz, single hour. “Wyys my handz harts”, rolling his head around, “and wyts wit blankie?”. Jazz snorts as she walks over to him, “little bro, you smashed your hands into the ceiling”. Looking up at her, his head limp, “wyys I dos dat?”. Shaking her head, “I really don’t know Danny, but it might have something to do with thinking you were a chandelier”. Danny just looks more confused now, but Jazz, noting his limpness unties him from the headrest and lays him down in bed. “I think you best just sleep, little brother, and please, no more laughing”. Danny just tiredly sticks his tongue out at her. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz falls asleep herself, knees folded on the ground with her head resting on Danny’s bed. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>—The Next Morning—</p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Danny wakes up to a whole lotta pain. “What the...”, he trails off as he pushes his blanket off himself, yanking his hands back while hissing. Muttering, “fuck me”, as he looks at his hands, nearly every bone is broken or chipped and his advanced healing has only fucked his fingers up even more. Healing them incorrectly in almost every conceivable way, “how did I even? and how am I supposed to fix this?”. Then looking down at his chest he groans, “seriously? Did I get into a boxing match with a bunch of mirrors or something”. Swinging his legs out of bed he walks to his mirror. He’s peppered in bruises, some that are extremely weird. He has bits of drywall in his hair as well.</p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Shaking his hair out he turns to take in his room and just... stares. Half his shit is on the floor or on the opposite side of the room than where it started. Blood is smeared almost everywhere, bits of glass are stabbed into the walls, his window is destroyed and there’s both ecto-line and an ecto-shield blanket on the floor. Muttering some more, “yeah I’m just not going to deal with this now, or possibly ever”, as he opens his door with his mouth, keeping his hands up around his chest, not quite touching his chest though. While he descends the stairs he’s already thinking of ways to easily just hide the mess but once he reaches the living room his mind blanks. Breathing out after a beat, “oh fuck”, seeing a long blood streak on the floor, some glass and bigger bits of drywall. He might have fucked up, just a wee bit. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Danny stares down at his hands, and that’s how Jazz finds him when she steps out of the kitchen. Mop in hand, Jazz watches Danny as he stares at his hands muttering to himself, looking horrified. Danny slowly lifts his head up and just mutters at Jazz, “what the fuck”. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Inside his head, Danny is just screaming over and over again, because she should not be here and there’s a massive really bad-looking mess and he was completely wasted and-. Jazz cuts off his thoughts as she answers him, “I don’t really know Danny, you were so messed up I could barely understand anything you said. You called me an ‘airy’, ate an entire bowl whole, punched a hole in the ceiling while pretending to be a chandelier I think, flung yourself out your window, and I think you stabbed yourself with a bottle of rum”. Danny just stares at her, his mouth hanging open, so Jazz elects to continue, “you were already covered in blood and glass when I got here and there was a bowl of cereal mixed with, what I assuming was, rum. Seriously Danny, what the Hell and where did you get rum?”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Danny just mutters, “uhhhh from the floor”. Jazz crosses her arms, “Danny, that makes about as much sense as whatever-”, clearing her throat to attempt the make the freakish sounds Danny made, “-‘exbird outwash fix erry‘ is”.  </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Danny shakes his head, “wow, sounds like I had fun”. At Jazz’s highly unimpressed face, Danny goes to run a hand across the back of his neck but winces instead. Eyeing Jazz again, he goes for a more serious response, “I guess I’d need context for those, uh, words? And I literally got it from the floor. The bottle was inside the floor”, Danny looks away a bit sheepishly. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“You mean to tell me you hid booze in the floor?”, Jazz crosses her arms stiffly. “Heh, yeah”, Danny shrugs, “wasn’t really expecting anyone home so soon, y’ know”. Jazz sighs and shakes her head, that much was obvious, “clearly, if that had been anyone who didn’t know about you, you’d be in massive trouble. I’m pretty sure you drank the entire thing, which should have been deadly. That combined with everything else...”, Jazz trails off as Danny waves a mutilated hand at her. “Ya ya I get it, I’m lucky it was you”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz sighs grabbing her mop again, “I would tell you to help, but I know you're injured, are your hands going to heal fine?”, her words are laced with genuine sisterly concern as she starts mopping the blood-streaked on the floor. Danny chuckles a bit dryly, eyeballing the mop, “well, first you might want some of my hidden mouth wash”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz stares at him, “okay what?”, blinking and going slightly wide-eyed, “is that what you said earlier?!”. Danny shrugs, having no idea himself, “maybe? expired mouth wash is pretty good as a cleaner”. Danny jumps up and phases through the ceiling startling Jazz, he returns the same way. Flicking a bottle of mouth wash at her, that he was previously holding by the cap in his mouth due to his mashed fingers situation. Jazz, mixing it on the floor, “oh wow, that’s just plain weird and I don’t even want to know how you discovered this”. Danny smirks a little, giving a curt, “yup”, as he looks around for any other damage. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“So... your hands?”.</p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Danny snaps his head back to her, “uhh well, I’ll have to re-break, like, everything and place it all back the way it’s supposed to be but it should be fine, I think”, shrugging more than a little awkwardly. His way of healing and dealing with injuries tended to freak everyone out, so it was usually just one of those ignored elephants in the room things; actually <em>talking</em> about it was <em>weird</em>. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz throws him a glare immediately, “Danny, Ancients, how are you even okay with doing that, none the less how are you going to do it with both hands messed up?”, she does keep mopping instead of stopping though. Danny shrugs, “uh, painfully?”. Which is effectively both a ‘no shit Sherlock’ response and a cheeky bastard response. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“Oh my god, Danny”. </p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>Danny gets up and sidesteps her, getting a bowl, cereal and milk all out with a combination of footwork and his mouth; Jazz watching him all the while as she mops. “That better actually be milk and I’m rather concerned by how good you are at that”. Sitting on the table top Danny pours the milk with his toes, “you’re going to be pissed if I tell you ‘practice’ aren’t you?”. Jazz immediately glaring at him as he sits down with his cereal, eating by scooping his tongue around. She can’t help giggling a little at how childish it looks before shaking her head to come off as serious again, “of course, you shouldn’t have a reason to be used to it”. Danny grunting, “well I do”, gesturing to himself, “resident superhero ghost boy here”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz chuckles lightly, which reminds her of something, “hey Danny, has anyone ever told you your laugh is extremely creepy and unnerving?”. Danny coughs on a couple of frootloops, “what? No, why?”. Jazz chuckles a bit more and shakes her head, “you were laughing, giggling and chuckling like your life depended on it. Genuine laughter too, but for whatever reason, it was spine chilling”, pausing to look at Danny, “you sounded like a demonic broken Elmo doll”. At that, Danny chuckles deeply a bit, “seriously?”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“Yeah, you even laughed as I tried to fix your wounds and you laughed really hard when you fell out your window and crash into the yard”. Danny can’t help chuckling again, Jazz noting that it actually is still slightly creepy but nothing close to before. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>“Wow that’s got to say something about me, don’t go analyzing me though”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Rolling her eyes, “I’m more focused on fixing your mess Danny, the lab is literally missing a third of its ceiling and I had to tie you to your own bed”. Danny goes wide-eyed laughing, “so <em>that's</em> why there’s ecto-line on the floor!”, Jazz just shakes her head as Danny continues more seriously, “was my laugh all creepy just now?”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz pauses in her cleaning, “slightly I guess, but nothing like last night. It was like the more you laughed the more completely disturbed I felt. Now your laugh just has the same slight offness it usually does”. Danny looks incredulously at her. Noticing, she sighs and stands up, one hand on her hip, “Danny, basically everything about you is slightly off or creepy. But it’s so minimal you really have to pay attention to notice at all”, smiling at him softly, “and paying attention to you is my sisterly duty”. Danny rolls his eyes but visibly relaxes some, “gee thanks”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>Jazz sighs as she heads down to the lab to collect the ceiling debris. On her way coming back up she hears cracking sounds, “hey Danny, what are you doing?”. </p>
  </div>
  <div>
    <p>The cracking stops, “uh, fixing my fingers?”. Jazz just sighs.</p>
  </div>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p>
      <strong>End.</strong>
    </p>
  </div>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: A sibling is genuinely disconcerted by another sibling’s laughter.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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